Closing the Gap

(Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year C; This homily was given on September 29, 2019 in Primavalle-Rome, Italy; See 1 Timothy 6:11-16 and Luke 16: 19-31)

There are three gaps or separations that we find in the readings for this weekend.  The first one is rather obvious, and Jesus mentions it specifically in the Gospel.  It is a gap revealed as a permanent separation between the rich man and Lazarus.  Immediately following the death of that poor man, Lazarus is carried by angels to the bosom of Abraham. Seeing him there from his own sorry space in the netherworld, the rich man implores Abraham to send Lazarus to console him.  Abraham responds that no such connection will be possible, because of an eternal gap: 

“Between us and you a great chasm is established   to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours” (Luke 16:26).

That is the first gap, and we can come back to that one at the end.  For now, I would like to look at another, very different, gap.  It is the one that St. Paul alluded to in our Second Reading this morning, in His First Letter to Timothy.  He describes Christ as “King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light and whom no human being has seen or can see” (1 Timothy 6:15).  There is an infinite space, then, between God and humanity.  He alone is immortal, unapproachable.  There is nothing that we could ever do to close that gap.  It is a total separation that no human ingenuity, no amount of goodwill or benign intention could ever remedy.  

But there is something God could do, and has done, to close the gap.  By a completely gratuitous act of self-giving love, the infinite and immortal God steps into time and becomes man.  It is the miracle of the Incarnation, and in the person of Christ the God “whom no human being has seen or can see” suddenly stepped into our world and changed everything.  He made it possible to live and love again, and he brought humanity into communion with God and with each other.  

Of course, because we are free we do not have to recognise that communion.  We could choose to remain separated from God and separated from each other.  That is the tragedy we find in the parable this weekend and it constitutes the third gap: sin.  Lazarus was known to this man.  He walked by Lazarus each and every day, but he deliberately choose to do nothing to alleviate his suffering.  We often make the same choices, remaining distant from those around us, and failing to close the gap.  

It can certainly happen when we fail to recognise Christ in the poor and the afflicted.  That is the very point of the Gospel for this weekend.  But it can also happen in the life of community, or in a lack of love for those we are called to serve.  It can happen by our neglect of prayer or an unresponsiveness to the prompting of the Holy Spirit.  Christ has come into our world and into our lives to bring us closer together and closer to God.  The Sacrament of the Eucharist that we celebrate is the greatest sign and reality of that communion.  Christ comes before us in all humility, making himself poor even like Lazarus, inviting us in the gentlest of ways to close the gap while there is still time.  

Which brings us back to that first gap once, again, the “great chasm” established between the rich man and Lazarus.  It is not surprising that the rich man, from his place of condemnation, can no longer do anything to change his lot.  It does come as a bit of a surprise, though, that this lack of mobility extends in both directions.  There is no longer anything Lazarus or Abraham can do, either!

This life alone is the place where we can exercise the gift of faith.  After this world, we will see God, see each other like never before; only here can we do good for the poor and needy, because in heaven there will be no more sorrow, no more pain (see Revelation 21:4).  Which means that we must use all the time we have, sparing no effort to love, to live completely our faith, and to allow God to close the gaps that still remain in our lives.  This is the only chance we will ever have to do that.  

What are some of the very practical ways that we can close the gap?  First and foremost, we pray.  We open our hearts to that dialogue that is always initiated by God, allowing us to become more open to the presence of Christ and the way He is revealing Himself in the world around us and in the lives of others.  Secondly, we allow Christ to close the gap through the power of the Sacraments. In the Eucharist He leaves no more space between us and God, and gives us the spiritual strength we need to live and love like never before. In the Sacrament of Reconciliation we allow His healing love to reorient our lives, making us available to God and to others.  In the daily practice of our faith, and through all the opportunities that God provides for us, we seek to make the Incarnation of Jesus Christ a fruitful reality in our personal vocation, in the Church and in the world.

Christian Life: Business & Personal

St. Kathryn Drexel (1858-1955)

(Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year C; This homily was given on September 22, 2019 in Rome, Italy; See Amos 8:4-7 and Luke 16: 1-13)

There is a chilling scene in the movie The Godfather, when Michael Corleone makes the fatal decision to become committed and involved in the family “business.”  The move is somewhat unexpected, as Michael is a college graduate and decorated Marine Corps vet that seemed to be moving in a path that was legitimate and even noble.  

The context is that another crime boss and a corrupt police officer have put the pressure on “The Family” and the Corleone clan are gathered together to figure out what they should do next.  Michael calmly explains that he will arrange a meeting and shoot them both.  There is complete silence in the room until one of the members of the family begins to laugh; for a moment, they had almost taken him seriously.  The others soon join in.  Sonny, Michael’s older brother, shrugs off the idea and condescendingly suggests that Michael has taken things too personally, and that the young college grad is not capable of such a bold move.  At that point, Michael methodically explains—step by step—how he will go about the crime.  Again, there is silence, and at that point Michael takes the opportunity to correct his brother.  With a ruthless lack of emotion, he coldly states, “It’s not personal, Sonny.  It’s strictly business.”

While that calculated line from Michael Corleone is thematic in that fiction film, and the modus operandi of the Godfather, it actually comes from a real-life figure in organised crime.  Otto Berman was a brilliant accountant for a crime family in Newark, New Jersey back in the 1930s, and he is credited with coining the phrase, “Nothing personal, it’s just business.”  Like so many people involved in that way of life, on screen and off, Berman died young and violently.

How sad, then, that the pithy expression lives on and is often used as an excuse for putting profit over people.  When a large corporation has to recover from a bad fiscal year, they reduce the workforce without any concern for the future of their former employees.  It nothing personal, strictly business.  

Perhaps some high-level investor sees an opportunity to purchase a competing company and eliminate it, along with the ideals that the company was founded on.  Just business, nothing personal.   

In the political world, we also see the same mentality.  Elected officials often say things like, “I am personally opposed to . . . , but . . .”  They choose to advance an immoral agenda by subscribing to the split between what is personal and what is “business.”

Our readings for this weekend come out strongly against this separation of one’s personal life from everyday business, in Amos the Prophet and in the Gospel.  Amos presents the injustice and corruption taking place in Israel during a very vulnerable period of the nation’s history.  He sums the mentality of some:

We will diminish the ephah, add to the shekel, and fix our scales for cheating!  We will buy the lowly for silver, and the poor for a pair of sandals.

—Amos 8:5-6

Nothing personal here; they are just conducting a little business.  But this very separation between the two automatically objectifies the human person.  People are not property, to be purchased for silver or the price of footwear.  God responds through the Prophet Amos:

The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob: never will I forget a thing they have done!

—Amos 8:7

In the Gospel, as well, the dishonest steward has been conducting business without any concern for the impact it will have on others.  He benignly cheats his own master, being mindful only of himself.  It’s strictly business, nothing personal.  But suddenly his deception is discovered and his “business” is about to come to an end.  At that point, he becomes deeply involved on a very personal level!  He works overtime to build relationships that will earn him dividends when the stewardship runs out.  

Jesus commends the man, not for his dishonesty, but for the way that he became fully committed and personally involved in every dimension of his work, so that every possibility for gain will be fulfilled.  “For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light (Luke 16:8),” Jesus comments.  Would that all God’s people were fully committed, personally involved and able to make prudent choices in spreading the light of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

In the early 20^th century, as Otto Berman’s life was coming to a close in Newark, a young woman named Kathryn Drexel was coming into her own in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  Born into one of the wealthiest banking and finance families in the United States, Kathryn and her two sisters inherited millions of dollars after the untimely death of their father and stepmother.  Of the three, Kathryn was the most business savvy.  As her sisters were being introduced into the highest circles of society and beginning families, she began to invest her money and administrative resources into schools and missions for the nation’s poor and disenfranchised.  The two main communities that she advocated for were the Native Americans and African Americans.  

In 1886, Kathryn and her sisters made a tour of Europe.  Like she had done with previous trips, young Kathryn used every opportunity to raise funds and advocate for her missions and schools.  Then in January she had the opportunity of a lifetime, a private audience with Pope Leo XIII at the Vatican.  Never lacking in courage, she knelt before the Holy Father and begged him to help her with the work she was doing back in the U.S.  Would His Holiness consider sending missionaries to spiritually feed these hungry souls?  Would he send good priests, holy sisters to work diligently in the missions.  His response was a resounding, “Yes!”  Fixing his gaze on the young millionaire, he said, “I am sending YOU!”

It is told that when Kathryn left the audience she was physically sick and completely overwhelmed.  She, a millionaire, to become a nun working each and every day in the schools and missions she had founded?  Was she now to take a vow of poverty?  Hadn’t she given enough?  Perhaps Jesus would have responded, “No.  It’s not just business, Kathryn, it’s personal.”  Whatever transpired in the depths of Kathryn’s soul, she began to discern a vocation to religious life and in 1889 renounced everything she owned, dedicating all of it to the work of the Gospel.  

Kathryn made her first vows in 1891, and not long afterward she founded the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament, dedicated to the service of Native Americans and African Americans.  In 1915, she founded Xavier University in New Orleans, the first Catholic University in the U.S. for African Americans.   She would go on to found more than 60 schools and some 50 missions dedicated to her vision of equal dignity and equal opportunity for all.  On March 3, 1955, Mother Kathryn Drexel died at the age of 96.  She was Beatified in 1988 and was Canonized St. Kathryn Drexel on October 1, 2000 by St. John Paul II.  

How is God challenging us to become more completely involved in the work of the Gospel, to be prudent and ardent children of light in our own place in this world?  May we also conduct our Christian lives and the business of the Gospel in a more deeply personal way as we live out our own vocation in the everyday experiences of life.